Burnt Truffle, 106 Telegraph Road, Heswall, Wirral CH60 OAQ (0151 342 1111). Meal for two, including drinks and service: £70-£90
Burnt Truffle is a restaurant shaped by expediency. It occupies a location on the Wirral which is unassuming in the way that Wales is often wet, inside a building of blunt dimensions, presumably once a house, set back from the road. You could easily miss it, which would be a crying shame. Inside, the walls are painted white and the tables are bare wood. A few old mirrors stand in for décor. To understand the business you must look elsewhere on those walls, at the framed menus from restaurants like the French Laundry in California and Rick Stein’s flagship restaurant in Padstow; at those from The Square, Lyle’s and Barrafina in London. It is a cheap way to declare intent and here, cheap is what matters, in a good way.
Burnt Truffle is the sibling to chef Gary Usher’s award-winning first restaurant, Sticky Walnut, which opened in January 2011 in Hoole, a short drive away down the nearby M53. When he decided to open a second business he went to the banks. The banks, being utterly incompetent, dribbling, short-sighted, knuckle-dragging idiots, said no. So Usher decided to turn to his customers. He crowdfunded it.
We’re used to this malarkey now, but a couple of years ago this seemed like a foolhardy gambit, not least because in return for people’s love, support and money he would have to give something back. Quite staggering numbers of people pledged funds in return for the promise of a free meal. This sounded to me like the restaurant equivalent of a snake eating its own tail: Burnt Truffle would open, only then to go bust because of all the freebies it had to deliver on.
Oh me of little faith. He’s cleverer than that, is Usher. Burnt Truffle launched on a shoestring last July – hence the modesty of the fixtures and fittings – but is clearly thriving. Having eaten there I can exactly see why. It’s the model of the neighbourhood bistro that punches well above its weight; the sort of place that you want on your doorstep, or at least that I want on mine. Often menus on restaurant walls feel like trophies, an act of hero worship from young cooks on the way up. Having eaten the food, these feel more like a nod from one bunch of pros to another.
It starts, as it so often must these days, with their own sourdough, with a sweet-sour elastic crumb and a crunchy crust. Our waitress tells us the cooks have begun to develop an intense emotional relationship with the “mother” starter, which must be fed every morning. They are clearly caring for her well. It comes with a scoop of swoon-worthy whipped butter flavoured with crushed walnuts, as if quietly acknowledging the mothership.
Barbie-pink discs of finely sliced and pickled mooli are positioned in a petal-like circle around another disc of roughly chopped steak tartar, first dressed with a little emulsion with back notes of Lea & Perrins, and then overlaid with piles of puffed wild rice, crispy shallots and, as a masterstroke, a smoked mayonnaise. There is crunch and acidity, which makes us mutter nostalgically about Worcestershire sauce-flavoured crisps, but with the smokiness forcing us to mutter about Frazzles. But then we are drawn back to the plate because there is something so much more grown up going on there.
Salmon is cured to a smooth meatiness and served on a dollop of brown miso thumping with umami, with crushed hazelnuts alongside an egg yolk that’s been confited, and a square of crisped salmon skin. The genius touch is the strands of pickled samphire. There is an understanding of the need for soft and hard, for sweet and acidity. It is just beautifully balanced. How much are these little plates of wonder and smarts? At lunchtime the beef is £6, the salmon £7. Mains are £11 or £12. And yes, in the evening prices rise, alongside the choice. The beef tartar is £7 by darkness, the mains between £14 and £18. But by anybody’s standards this is value; the sort of value that justifies taking the day off and grabbing the lunch deal.
Of our two main courses, the winner by a snout is three fat discs of soft, salty pork collar on pearl barley giving its brave impression of risotto. It’s overlaid with strands of lawn- green wild garlic, all of it dribbled with a salsa of apple and walnuts. But the killer touch is the fragments of pork crackling mixed into the pearl barley. On another plate a piece of beef short rib has been braised and braised again, until it seems only to be holding together due to a sense of decorum (and the sticky glaze with which it’s been dressed, a reduction of seemingly endless meatiness). A smooth caramelised onion purée lubricates the plate alongside fronds of watercress because we all must have our greens. If I was looking for something to whinge about, I’d probably argue the chips are a bit too close to chunky for my liking and not quite crisp enough, but my heart’s not in it. By this point in the meal I have decided the kitchen can do no wrong. I am theirs.
Because look! They can do desserts too! Well of course they can. An orange and almond sponge is utterly drenched in syrup until it has an almost jellified texture. It lies in a puddle of butterscotch sauce alongside a scoop of nicely acidic crème fraîche. A set lemon curd at the bottom of a glass is topped with their own marshmallows and meringues with a scoop of blackberry sorbet. It’s a sweet shop of a dessert, brimming with sherbet lemons. To prove we are grown ups we drink a couple of glasses of prosecco at £6 each. The wine list proper kicks off in the teens.
As I say, it would be lovely if we all had one of these close by, and soon the lucky people of Chorlton near Crewe will. Usher is doing it again. He has just announced the launch of another crowdfunding campaign to open Hispi. This time the banks have coughed up £100,000 but he needs another £50,000. If you pledge £10, you will get a “grovelling but heartfelt thank you” from Usher; £50 gets you a branded Sticky Walnut apron. Hit £100 and the offer of free meals kicks in. For more information search Kickstarter for Hispi. Personally, as a man who cares too much about his lunch, I would regard making a donation as a social service.
Jay’s news bites
■ Camp and Furnace in nearby Liverpool uses its huge warehouse space for social events in a manner that makes it feel like a business rooted in the community. The restaurant has an eclectic and cheerfully restless menu (campandfurnace.com).
■ Paul Foster has hit his £100,000 crowd-funding target and will now move forward with plans to open Salt in Warwickshire. Meanwhile the Yorkshire Meatball Company has launched its own campaign for the same sum, so it can launch two new restaurants and a range of products. Search meatball on crowdcube.com.
■ Food Cycle, the brilliant charity working to tackle food poverty and waste by creating nutritious meals from ingredients that would otherwise be thrown away, is holding a fundraiser on 21 April in London. Seven chefs including Giorgio Locatelli, Angela Hartnett and Cyrus Todiwala will be cooking a course each for Green & Pleasant Land. I think it sounds fabulous. But then I’m hosting it. Tickets are a stonking £350, but for a great cause (foodcycle.org.uk).
Email Jay at jay.rayner@observer.co.uk or follow him on Twitter @jayrayner1
